Chapter Five
“Big place,” Kenzie said when Finn answered the door.
“Big and empty,” he replied in that charming, rueful way of his. Like he was kind of embarrassed to be tall, hot…and rich, as well.
“I brought red.” She showed him the bottle. “Not that I can drink any. But, hey. It’s a nice wine and I assume we’re having steaks?”
He took the bottle and stepped back. “Thank you. Come on in.”
She crossed the threshold into an enormous great room with wide-plank cedar floors, a fireplace of natural stone and tall windows framing views of the endless prairie and the distant mountains.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. The little furniture he had was expensive, with two giant sofas, a couple of club chairs, a big coffee table and some floor lamps.
No rugs. “I remember the family who lived here.”
He was nodding. “The Rawlingses.”
“Yeah. Fourteen years ago, they sold their business in Seattle and opened a tractor dealership in town. What they hadn’t factored in was that Tenacity was already in a slump. When things kept getting worse, their dealership went bust.”
He made a thoughtful sound. “I did hear that they had a lot of family money, so I’m thinking they landed on their feet.”
“Well, good for them,” she said solemnly. “Too many lost too much trying to make a go of it during the tough times.” And then, she put on a smile. “On a lighter note, I love what you’ve done with the place.”
“As in…not a thing?”
She shrugged. “You said it, I didn’t.”
“I’ll get there, just you watch.”
“I have no doubt.”
“And the Rawlingses’ loss was definitely my gain,” he said. “I got a great price for the property, including the house, the barn, twenty acres and enough furniture to get by for a while.”
“You planning on buying a few horses and running cattle?”
“One horse, maybe. Someday. But you know me. I like my Stetson as well as the next guy. At heart, though, I’m a town boy and I sell real estate. I’ll leave the cattle ranching to the experts.” He swept out a hand. “This way.”
She followed him past the wide staircase and into the kitchen, which was as big and impressive as the living room. There were acres of stone countertops and the giant Wolf range had a copper hood to match.
“Ginger ale?” he offered. “Sparkling water?”
“Sparkling water sounds good.”
He poured her some fizzy water over ice, opened the wine and served himself a glass. “Real nice,” he said with an approving nod.
“Glad you like it.” She raised her glass and he tapped it lightly with his.
And then, for the longest time, they stood there at the enormous island grinning, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.
Finally, Finn tipped his head toward an archway. “It’s nice out. Come on…” She fell in step behind him and he led her past a full-size pantry, a laundry room and the mudroom.
When they reached the back door, he pulled it wide. “After you.”
She went onto the covered back deck, where a round cast-iron table was set for two.
He had a charcoal cooker going. He must have added mesquite to the coals for extra flavor.
It smelled so good. She walked to the edge of the deck and admired the rippling prairie grasses, the big red barn in the distance and the rustic split-rail fencing.
He was standing at her shoulder. She could feel the warmth of him so close.
“Hungry?” he asked.
She turned and smiled up at him. “Lately, I am always hungry.”
“Well, I’d better feed you, then, huh?”
His eyes always got to her. They seemed to see right down inside her. With Finn, she’d always felt known, somehow. And in the best way, too. Because his eyes said he liked what he saw.
And what were they talking about…?
She set her half-finished glass of water next to his wineglass on the iron table. The late-summer wind blew down from the distant mountains. She could hear the soft rustle of the long prairie grasses.
“Kenz?” He said her name so sweet and low, on a whisper of breath.
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She knew what was coming. She could see the intention shining in his eyes and she signaled her eagerness for it with a secret smile and a hint of a nod.
His lips met hers, the softest breath of a touch. She felt the contact like a bolt of lightning, taking her over, lighting her up inside.
He was smiling, too. She could feel that smile against her parted lips and she waited for him to pull her closer.
But he didn’t. Instead, he brushed his mouth back and forth across hers.
She gave in first. With a small, hungry cry, she surged up on tiptoe. Sliding her hands upward over his big, hard chest, she clasped his wide shoulders and pressed her mouth firmly to his.
He groaned.
She laughed, the sound low and husky to her own ears as she parted her lips, inviting him deeper.
Now, she was the one groaning as he gathered her closer and kissed her harder. Their bodies were pressed together, her round belly against his belt buckle.
This, she thought. Finn and me, holding each other, kissing like our lives depend on it. Oh, I have missed this for too many long years…
She was about to grab his hand, drag him inside and straight to his bedroom…wherever that might be in this mansion of his.
But then, he gently clasped her shoulders and moved back a step.
She blinked and gazed up into his waiting eyes. “What now?”
He looked flushed and way too pleased with himself. “This is going better than I dared to imagine it would.”
That made her laugh. How did he do it? He charmed her so easily. She tried to look stern. “Don’t get your hopes up, mister.”
He smirked. “Hope’s not the only thing up about me.”
She laughed some more, and scolded, “That’s not even funny.”
“Sorry.” He faked a contrite expression. “But you did laugh.”
“Okay, fine. It might have been a little bit funny.”
He was looking kind of serious now. “Am I moving too fast?”
“Yes,” she replied. And then she admitted, “Although the truth is, a minute ago I was on the verge of dragging you off to your bedroom.”
“Damn. So close.” His voice was tender. Lifting a hand, he guided a wind-tossed curl of hair away from her lips and back behind her ear. She felt the echo of his touch even after he’d lowered his hand again.
“So what now?” she asked.
“How about some dinner?”
“I’m in.”
“Excellent. I’ll put the chicken on and pour you more sparkling water.”
“I thought we were having steaks.”
“We were. But I gave it more thought and as I recall, you used to love mesquite-grilled chicken.”
“And I still do.” What she loved even more was that he’d remembered. “Yes, please. Put the chicken on.”
* * *
Two hours later, Kenzie had eaten a couple of chicken thighs, a baked potato and a nice big helping of green salad with shaved Parmesan and lemon vinaigrette.
In the distance, cirrus clouds glowed orange and purple, and the sun had sunk below the horizon. After the meal, Finn had cleared the table and offered decaf and rainbow sherbet for dessert.
Now, her sherbet bowl was empty. As for the coffee, she was on her second cup. And aside from her need to visit the powder room soon, she could sit here forever watching the sunset and sipping decaf with Finn at her side.
“This was delicious,” she said.
He sat back in his chair. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“As I recall, when we were together back in high school, nobody cooked in your family but your mom.”
“You remember it right. We Monahan men were very busy doing…man things. My dad couldn’t even be bothered to learn how to use the big grill out back. My mom did everything—around the house, in the yard. You name it, she took care of it.”
“You guys had a maid, though, didn’t you? I thought that was very fancy the first time I had dinner at your house.”
“We had people who came in and cleaned. Sometimes Mom would hire someone to help when we had company for dinner or when there was a party or a cookout. But she was in charge and she did most of the work herself.”
“I don’t know why, but I thought you helped out around the house.”
“Nope. I didn’t learn how to make a bed or do laundry until I was in college. At home, I dropped my dirty clothes on the floor of my room and then forgot about them. Within a day or two I would find them, clean and pressed and neatly folded in a drawer or on a hanger in my closet.”
“You make your mom sound superhuman.”
“She is amazing. My brothers and I, though…” He let his words trail off with a shrug before going on. “We were spoiled rotten. Just like my dad. Entitled, that’s what we were.”
That surprised her. “You never acted like you were entitled.”
“That’s probably because my mom also taught us to be polite, to help out wherever we were needed—except around the house.”
She raised her glass to him. “I’m so pleased to see how far you’ve come toward self-sufficiency.”
“Thank you. I’m working on it.” He set down his wineglass and rose.
She glanced up at him, grinning. When he offered his hand, she took it. His grip was warm and firm. Hot little shivers slid down the backs of her knees as she stood. “That look in your eyes,” she said softly.
“Yeah? What about it?”
“It ought to be illegal.”
He wrapped his free arm lightly around her and reeled her in even closer. As he nuzzled her hair, he whispered, “I admit, I just might be getting…ideas.”
“Hmm…”
His lips brushed her cheek. “More coffee?”
She elbowed him lightly. “Are you kidding? This baby takes up too much space for another cup of coffee. There’s hardly room for my bladder anymore. What I really need is a quick visit to the powder room.”
“For that, I would have to let go of you.”
“And I would definitely advise you to do that. Like…now.”
“Whoa!” He stepped away. “Come on, I’ll show you where it is.”
“No need. I spotted it on the way in.” She turned on her heel and headed inside.
In the half bath, she relieved her bladder, washed her hands, smoothed her windblown hair and then leaned in to meet her own eyes in the mirror.
“You shouldn’t,” she whispered to her reflection, noting that her eyes gleamed with anticipation and her cheeks were flushed with excited color. “You like him too much. You always have…”